


Duality of Color

by DraiochtEve



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Colors, Gen, Jealousy, Memories, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, POV Third Person, Post-Kingdom Hearts Chain of Memories, Short One Shot, Trauma, not here for shipping just here for Naminé to get some of that sadness out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25001590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraiochtEve/pseuds/DraiochtEve
Summary: A short oneshot about Naminé, colors, and how they are linked to identity and memories.White was a blank canvas needing color and direction. It was void, empty, and lonely. Much like the page of her sketchbook in front of her, still needing its first splashes of color. It was just as overwhelming to her as black was to Sora and just as suffocating. But, she conceded, at the very least the white helped the other colors shine and be seen.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Duality of Color

Markers, paints, pastels, and pencils. She had many mediums. However, time and time again she would always return to the crayons. DiZ scoffed at her for the unsophisticatedness with an aftertaste of mockery striking her as expected every visit. But she always requested more and he always brought more back for her despite his disapproval. The shaming didn’t hurt anymore so long as she had her colors and he would not deny her so long as she did her work.

Perhaps it was immaturity that had a hold on her? She should graduate from these cheap chalks to something more fitting of a witch of such great power. Something more accurate and easy to handle. However, the distinct smell and comforting feel gave her a nostalgic high of a childhood she never had. Addicting and ever so pleasant. Security.   
  
Memories were there, fleeting and at the edge of her mind though in a place Naminé could never properly see herself in. Not like in the heart of Sora which she invaded once more to repair the damage she had done just a month ago. He was stable in his memories with vivid recollections she could lose herself in like watching a movie. However, she was still an outsider no matter how many times before she tried to weave herself into his past. And her own memories…

They were never meant to be hers to begin with. How could she lay claim to such tales when she was naught more than an unwanted parasite on Sora and a shell of Kairi? When she had so maliciously fed on them and all those intertwined with their destinies to warp reality into her own desires? No, she had little for herself, as it should be. Just she, her paper, and her crayons.   
  
As she opened the new pack, she raised the box to her face and inhaled slowly, reveling in the aroma. Tranquility draped over her shoulders and she eased into the sanctuary of her mind as her fingertips brushed over each sharpened point. Where to begin today?   
  
The blue caught her eye first and she was reminded of the seas of Destiny Islands. So many important memories were anchored there and so many times she had walked its shores within Sora’s heart. But the blue was more than those precious waters. It was cool and peaceful, yet sad and alone. The wondrous sky and the tear dripping down one's cheek. The first satisfying lick of sea-salt ice cream and one of the swirling hues of the galaxy holding the world together. Such complexity it had, striking so many chains at once.    
  
Naminé gingerly retrieved the blue crayon from its home and set it aside with a twinge of pain where her heart would be. 

Next, the yellow crayon called to her and she answered it swiftly cradling it in her palm. So much happiness bubbled from the color. Paopu fruit and its sweetness, his own shoes, glistening stars, the King’s dog Pluto, a warm sun —no, a  _ blistering _ sun— and the sands of Agrabah. Tiredness and heat. But overall, so much joy it made her smile softly. What she would give to feel a droplet of that authentic glee or even the burn from the coarse sand on her feet. 

As she lowered her hand to set the yellow beside her, a sour taste tickled her tongue and static charge seemed to fill the room. Naminé gasped as Sora’s heart echoed the pain of several thundagas streaking across his body and she too jolted from its familiarity. A shared pain that she almost lamented ripping away for she would be alone in remembering, but he would not have experienced the extremities of Larxene’s combat had she herself not aided in his capture. All of Castle Oblivion had to be unlinked to set things right. It is what everyone deserved and her lone suffering was what she had earned. There was no helping it. Naminé settled it in her mind and reached for her next color.   


Red. Fiery and passionate. The color of love and life rushing through one’s veins. Infernos fueled by anger by an equally heated redhead. Her finger itched for that blue knowing how Axel would feel —if you could call it that— after her progress reached completion. Strange she found herself pitying him, but he had never been as wicked as the others had been to her. He had been kind at times like warmth in a storm, but still as unpredictable as a free flame. An enemy? No, but an ally she couldn’t regard him as either. And like Larxene, he would have to go.

Jealous and insidious was the green. A color blended of cool blue and tart yellow. Personally, it made her feel sickly seeing it. However, to Sora it screamed life and twisting jungles. She was never allowed to explore the dense forests that encased the mansion, but they always seemed villainous to her. 

Black was the opposite for them as well. Sora saw evil in the color and Naminé could not blame him. All his experiences with the darkness were traumatic and painful. It was color that choked all others and consumed. It had stolen away Riku and consumed his home within a swift, dark night. But having been born from it and having walked corridors of darkness time and time again, she found the hue comforting like a gentle night sky. It was every color at once and powerful. Often, she wished to be swallowed by it and not left in a blinding white prison-like she always seemed to be trapped in. 

White was a blank canvas needing color and direction. It was void, empty, and lonely. Much like the page of her sketchbook in front of her, still needing its first splashes of color. It was just as overwhelming to her as black was to Sora and just as suffocating. But, she conceded, at the very least the white helped the other colors shine and be seen. 

Just as she was confined to the background, twisting and mending those around her so they may play their part. 

The box tumbled from her hand in her absentmindedness and crashed onto the table scattering crayons carelessly. Naminé quickly began picking up, cursing under her breath as colors rolled off the table and to the floor with a symphony of thuds. Her control and focus separated just as sporadically and tears began to well in her eyes. She had to regain composure. Now wasn’t the time to panic.   
  
But all composure left her once her eyes fell upon the lone crayon that had rolled the farthest away.    
  
_ Pink.  _

And it was the loveliest shade she had ever seen.    
  
The chains in Sora’s heart sang out and Naminé felt the happy yellow kiss her mind. Sora had such a strong bond with this color. Sweetness and spunk. Laughter and friendship. A color worthy of a  _ princess,  _ not a witch. Something she could never be despite having been…

Blue tears and envious green swirled within her as red anger and sour yellow rose from her empty chest. It was as if she was going to burst and bleed hues that would drown her in an abyss of color. A cry crawled from her throat and Naminé held the pink crayon to her chest, wishing it to join the chaos she possessed, but still, it refused to budge. The only hint she had was the painful slices of Marluxia’s petals as he pulled at her strings, making her wash all of Sora’s memories away with her void white and start anew with everything but the pink Sora held so dearly.

The pink she could never be on her own.   
  
But she knew if she could just play her part, if she could just bear the pain, and if she could just mend the chains she had haphazardly severed, she could at least be part of that empty canvas the pink would glow from. Not a princess, not a friend, not a wanted companion, but the forgotten background that the pink and blue and green and yellow and red and black and everything in between could radiate from.

It was why she existed. It was why all nobodies existed. And she was wrong from the start to try and be more than the prism that was outshined by the rainbows. She would correct it and she would be satisfied knowing she could at least settle in the dark corners of Kairi’s heart getting some taste of proper color she never deserved to begin with.   
  
And with a trembling lip and crayons in her hands, she returned to her seat and began to draw.

**Author's Note:**

> A little unhappy with this, but I really wanted to write a Naminé story because I adore her and she doesn't get enough love. All kinda came out in a ramble, but so be it. She deserves to be recognized as a princess in her own right and Nomura did her dirty in KH3.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
